Author's Notes: Hey all, after much thinking I decided to write Chapter 2. Hope it's not too cliched!
Oh yeah, and, I forgot to mention this last time. I have left out the following characters, because I just can't write them:
Anya
Riley
Tara.
Disclaimer: Will I do a disclaimer? Lessee....nah!
Dedicated, as always, to Pippa. Love ya.
Spike stared helplessly around Willy's bar. He slowly turned round in a circle, and all he could see was red. Blood and gore was splattered all over the walls, ceiling, floor...it was a massacre. Spike fought to contain the primal urges that he could feel rising within him; telling him that prey was near and he could feed. Not that Spike felt any moral objections to this, it just had no honour.
Only scavengers fed from leftovers.
A weak cough snapped Spike's attention back to the situation at hand. Spike cocked his head, listening for a heartbeat. There! A faint sound coming from the other side of the room. Spike cautiously approached the broken body on the floor, and was surprised to see it was Willy. Scum. They should know he's off limits. Spike helped prop Willy up against the wall, only to see him wince.
"You alright, mate?" Spike asked the bartender.
"I.....I think my leg is broken." Willy managed to say through his pain.
"It'll heal. Mind telling me what the bloody hell just happened?"
Willy shook his head violently, his eyes filling with terror.
"No...NO! He'll kill me...kill me..." Willy was babbling now, in an insane frenzy of fear.
Spike dropped him. He's in shock. He began to walk away, knowing whatever information he could get out of the bartender would have to wait. He had almost reached the door, when...
"Spike...he's after you."
Spike spun round in an instant, but Willy had slipped into unconsciousness. Damn.
* * *
"No way!" Xander Harris yelled. "Sean Connery was way the best Bond!"
"Nuh-uh!" countered Buffy. "Pierce Brosnan is much hotter!"
"I hope I'm not interrupting your very intellectual discussion." Willow grinned, regarding her two friends.
"No problemo Will, just livin' the easy life of Xander." Xander remarked, lounging in his usual fashion on the sofa. It was a great day, and the gang were all round at Giles' apartment, lazing around.
Life was good.
The illusion was suddenly shattered as Giles' door was broken down by a rapidly moving Spike, barely covered with a smoking blanket. Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Spike, I know you agreed to go on patrol with me, but I didn't think you were that eager..." she said dryly.
"Why hello, Spike. How nice of you to grace us with your presence. Now would you mind telling us what the hell you're doing here?" Giles said flatly.
"Alright Watcher, keep your hair on." Spike retorted.
"Not that I'm not glad to see you Spike...well, ok, I'm not....." Xander started, but was interrupted by Spike.
"I think something's after me."
There was a beat. The silence stretched until it was broken by Xander.
"Uhh...and I'm supposed to care....why?"
"Haven't you got a job to be at?" asked Spike, knowing fine well the teen was unemployed. "Oh, that's right. You haven't got one."
"Shut up, Dead Man Walking." dismissed Xander, trying to hide his wounded ego.
Giles sighed and began to clean his glasses. He seemed to have a permanent headache when Spike was around. He watched as Xander, Buffy and Spike all started arguing. Eventually the noise level just got to high, and Giles cried,
"Enough! Now, Buffy, Xander, as annoying as Spike is, he has helped us in the past, and we at least owe it to him to hear him out. Spike, tell us why you're here. And quickly, please, I feel a migraine coming on."
Spike seemed amused, and looked as if he was going to offer a sarcastic reply, but thought better of it.
"Alright, here's what I know. I was goin' down to Willy's for a pint or two, before I called it a night-"
This received a snort from Buffy. Spike chose to ignore it.
"-and when I get in there, I find a bloodbath. I'm talkin' the real thing here, there was enough blood for a nest of vampires to live on for a week. Demon blood, granted, but we're not too picky."
Everyone - excluding Spike - exchanged slightly disgusted looks, before referring back to the more serious matter.
"Why would you come and tell us about this?" Buffy asked, suspicious.
"Because the bleedin' bartender –before he passed out - told me the lug who did this was after me!"
"I'm not exactly sure I follow, Spike, what do you want us to do about it?" asked Giles.
Spike stopped pacing and looked at Giles, as if the answer was obvious.
"I want you to kill the bugger, that's what! Come on, you and your little....'Scoobies'...should be right on this! It's your bloody destiny, isn't it? You have to! Good o' mankind, and all that stuff."
Spike finished his little speech, and turned to look at the four. They were all staring at him with identical expressions of disbelief.
"Oh bloody hell, just find it and kill it!" and with that, Spike bounded out of the apartment.
"Well," Giles commented, breaking the silence, "I suppose we could do some research..."
* * *
Ropen headed towards his new destination; the Cemetery. After disposing of the Target, he would return to Douleur for whatever payment he wished. The only indecision Ropen faced was simple: whether to go for a quick, efficient kill, or to draw out the death, making it long and painful. Douleur had given him specific instructions to torture the Target, but after Ropen had held him 3 feet above the ground by his hair, he suddenly became very sure of the fact that Ropen could do as he pleased.
Soon after reaching the Cemetery, Ropen easily located the current habitation of the Target. What had Douleur called it? Oh yes, a 'Crypt'.
Ropen entered the crypt and immediately sensed it was occupied by a single being. Using night-vision to scan the figure in the darkness, it had an 100% match to the photo stored in his memory.
The Target.
By the way the creature held itself, Ropen could see it was obviously a predator. A force to be reckoned with. At least, for others to reckon with. He instantly decided that, instead of killing it outright, he would give it a chance to defend itself in combat. He calculated it would last approximately 47 seconds. He at last let his presence be known.
"Spike. By the hand of Gabriel Ropen, you are to be exterminated."
Spike turned in a flash, trenchcoat swirling around him. He saw the face of his foe and knew it was his end. Death had entered his crypt. He uttered a single word.
"Ropen."
And then Ropen attacked.
Chapter 3 coming soon!